


Northern Soul

by knee_knee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Prompt Fic, Skimmons AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knee_knee/pseuds/knee_knee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For fic prompt #9 - meeting the parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Northern Soul

It’s raining when Skye first sets foot on British soil. She tries to laugh at how stereotypical it is, but she’s jetlagged and nervous so all that comes out is a slightly hysterical whine. Simmons looks at her in concern, gently squeezing her hand and smiling reassuringly when Skye begins to follow her across the tarmac and into Manchester airport.

They spend what seems like an eternity waiting for their luggage. The carousel keeps shuddering and an alarming grinding sounds from inside the motor. Skye starts to grow impatient and, though Simmons protests, she is seconds away from climbing through the carousels hatch to look for their cases herself. She imagines it’d be like that bit in Toy Story 3 but easier because she’s a SHIELD agent, not a tiny spaceman.

Luckily, a man in a hi-vis vest gives the motor a kick and the carousel begins working in earnest. It moves quickly and they locate their bags easily enough as Simmons had practically coated them in neon tape back in the States. They head off at last, oblivious to the fact that the carousel is now moving so fast that travellers are risking life and limb to grab their luggage. A man in an ‘I <3 NYC’ shirt grabs his case but can’t lift it fast enough. He goes sprawling to gasps and guffaws from the assembled holidaymakers.

They brush past a squad of baggage handlers, who are frantically hammering on a control panel, as Simmons tows Skye through airport security and toward the arrivals lounge.

“Right,” says Simmons brightly as her eyes scan the terminal. “Just keep a look out for my parents, they said they’d be waiting.”

“One small problem, I dunno what they look like.”

Skye is getting nervous again, her palms are sweaty on her luggage handles and her throat feels dry. She tries to call to mind her training and control her breathing but then Simmons squeaks excitedly. Skye watches her rush over to her waiting parents, her suitcase wobbling all over the place on its tiny wheels. Taking a steadying breath, Skye follows.

“Mum, dad,” Simmons stops hugging her parents and grabs onto Skye’s arm with a beaming smile. “This is Skye.”

“’Sup Simmonses,” says Skye, dropping a case and wiping a hand on her jeans before offering it to Simmons’ parents. She tries to keep her composure but her brain is screaming at her for being unable to say hello like a normal person.

She needn’t have worried because Simmons’ mother yanks her into a hug. The woman is smaller than Skye so she’s forced to stoop, awkwardly patting her on the back and looking at Simmons with wide eyes. Her friend just giggles.

“Hello love, oh it’s so nice to meet you at last,” says Simmons’ mother, releasing Skye and allowing her husband to step forward and clap the girl on the back with a grin.

“Aye, our Jemma’s told us so much about you. I’m Chris and this,” he gestures to his wife, “is Angela.”

“Call me Ange, love. Right, shall we get you girls home?”

Chris insists on taking their luggage, jamming Skye’s smaller case under a beefy arm and wheeling the other two out to the car. Ange links arms with the two girls, chattering away to her daughter and asking Skye about herself.

It continues throughout the car journey, though Skye finds it hard to keep up with what’s being said. She knew Simmons had tried to disguise her regional accent over the years, she’d told Skye as much, but listening to her chatter away with her family made Skye realise just how much Simmons hid it. It was like being let in on a secret. Skye found it incredibly endearing.

Once they begin to drive through the Peak District, the weather seems to take a turn for the worst. Skye watches in quiet horror as the clouds turn black and rain batters the car. The others barely bat an eyelid, though Chris does turn the windscreen wipers on high. Simmons notices her discomfort and links her fingers with Skye’s. She’s glad of it, especially as the road takes them along the top of a deep valley, curving through the hillside in such a way that Skye feels sure the car is about to plummet.

Skye almost melts with relief when they pass through at last, instead navigating through tiny average towns on the last leg of their journey. Even the rain has stopped. She feels Simmons fingers clench and looks up to see her grinning out of the window at a road sign. Sheffield.

“Home sweet home,” says Simmons gleefully as the car finally pulls up outside a house. She gives Skye’s fingers one last squeeze before getting out of the car.

Simmons’ house is a carefully maintained detached building, with a front garden full of wildly colourful flowerbeds and a few cheeky pottery gnomes. Chris has parked on the driveway, though Skye can see a garage at the side of the house. To her surprise, there’s a basketball hoop screwed to the lintel above the garage door. Before she can even offer to help with the luggage, Ange ushers her through the front door and into Simmons’ childhood home.

They forego a tour of the house and instead choose to sit in the living room. Ange bustles about with a tea tray and Chris flicks to the history channel on the TV, turning the volume down low so they can talk. Skye accepts the tea that Ange is offering, though she sneaks in an extra sugar cube while Simmons isn’t looking. Ange grins and hands her a Wagon Wheel. Skye is reading the packaging when Simmons settles back into the sofa and looks at her.

“They’re nice, promise,” says Simmons over the rim of her mug. She’s curled her feet up onto the sofa, her socked toes brushing against Skye’s thigh. Skye tries to act relaxed, crossing her legs and tearing into the Wagon Wheel wrapper with her teeth.

Simmons is right, Wagon Wheels are nice.

“So,” says Chris from the other sofa, his feet propped up on a footstool. “What are you girls planning on doing while you’re here? There’s not much going on, just nana’s birthday party on Saturday.”

“Not that you have to come to that of course,” adds Ange, sitting down next to her husband.

“Oh no, we’ll be coming, right Skye?” Simmons smiles and Skye nods, her mouth full. “Other than that, I think we’ll just visit town, do the touristy things and maybe the cinema.”

“It’ll just be nice to have a break,” says Skye, sipping her tea. “God knows it’s been a while.”

“I don’t doubt it! You all work so hard and it’s been too long since you were last home Jemma.”

“I know, mum. We were lucky to get these two weeks holiday. Fitz thought it was going to get cancelled, you should’ve seen his little face when Coulson cleared it.”

“Where is Leo?” Chris leans forward, snagging a biscuit from the tray before offering one to Skye who shakes her head with a smile.

“His mum’s, he sends his love.”

“Bless, tell him he’s welcome to pop down before your leave is up is he fancies.”

“Yes dad, I suppose he can always have the spare bedroom if he does and Skye can share with me. I have a double bed after all.” Simmons turns to Skye as if asking for confirmation and so she nods, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Ah well, I’m glad you said that,” says Ange with a sheepish grin. “Your dad has turned the spare room into – what do you call them… a man cave?”

“Oh!”

“Well my shed is too full of your mum’s bloody begonias and daffs at the mo. I swear she’s taking over since her greenhouse got smashed up by that cat from next door. I hate the thing…”

“Well if you just fixed it we’d be alright, wouldn’t we?” Ange nudges her husband in the ribs, smirking. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head and she swats at him.

Skye can see the family resemblance, Simmons looks very much like her parents. Her mother’s smile, her father’s eyes and their welcoming personality. Simmons’ parents make quite the handsome couple, though middle-age and comfortable living has softened their bodies and lined their faces. Skye thinks they look like happiness should.

“It’s fine, honestly. Skye and I can share, right?”

Once again Simmons looks at Skye questioningly and, once again, Skye responds enthusiastically.

“Sure! Totally fine, it’ll be like a sleepover!”

*

It is not like a sleepover. Skye is certain of that, though she’d never actually been on one. This is stepping behind-the-scenes and seeing how Simmons became the incredible young woman Skye had come to know. It’s personal and Skye feels her heart swell.

Simmons shows Skye her bedroom, pointing out little mementos from her past and quickly making room for Skye’s belongings. The walls are violet and covered in pictures. Skye smiles when she realises they’re all of historical heroines and a few of Simmons as a child.

“You were a cute kid,” says Skye, examining a row of what looks like school photographs. Simmons scoffs. “You were! Look at your big smile and your little pigtails! Super cute.”

“Yes well, I suppose I was a bit. Before I grew taller and became gangly and unco-ordinated,” says Simmons as she joins Skye. “Look, there’s Fitz.”

“Oh my god,” giggles Skye as she looks at the picture Simmons has pointed out. In it, a teenage Simmons is standing next to a tiny, unruly haired Fitz. He’s still wearing his trademark shirt and tie but it’s so big on him it looks like he’s been shrunk. “Wait, I thought you guys met at the Academy?”

“Oh we did, properly. It was only after a few months of us being lab partners that we realised we’d met once before at the CREST Awards. It’s an award and enrichment scheme for STEM projects here in the UK. We were both thirteen. Mad, right?”

“Yeah, crazy.”

Simmons shows Skye the bathroom, pointing out how to use the shower before leaving her to it. The hot spray washes away the last vestiges of their journey and when Skye emerges minutes later, she feels less inhuman.

She paces Simmons’ bedroom while her friend showers. Quickly being drawn to the bookshelf and occupying herself by flicking through some of the titles. There’s lots of textbooks, which is unsurprising, but there’s also a great variety of novels. Mostly science fiction and crime from what Skye can glean from the titles. In the top corner, Skye finds poetry. She is just leafing through an anthology when Simmons returns, pyjamas on and ready for bed.

“Sorry, I just got curious,” says Skye, moving to put the book back.

“Its fine, books are meant to be read. Besides, that has one of my favourite poems in,” says Simmons as she pulls the covers back and slips into bed. “Do you mind if I have this side?”

“No that’s cool.”

Skye puts the book back and then joins Simmons in bed. She doesn’t move at first, trying to make sure she doesn’t get in Simmons’ way. Her stiffness is noticeable and Simmons asks if she’s alright.

“Yeah I’m fine, just didn’t want to be a bed hog,” says Skye as she wiggles into a more relaxed position.

“Don’t be silly, there’s plenty of room.”

Simmons waits until Skye is settled before she switches the bedside lamp off and the room goes dark. Skye laughs when she realises there are glowing stars stuck to the ceiling.

“Dad did it for me when I was little and I’ve never felt like taking them down,” says Simmons quietly.

“I like it.”

They’re silent for a long time, comfortable enough that they start to drift off. Skye rolls onto her side to look at Simmons, picking out her friend’s silhouette in the glow from the alarm clock.

“Thank you Jemma, for letting me stay,” she says softly and hopes that Simmons knows just how much it means to her. Simmons turns toward her and though Skye can’t see her face, she knows Simmons is smiling.

“You’re welcome Skye, any time. I’ve wanted to bring you home with me for a while but our leave kept getting rearranged. Mum and dad were so excited to meet you, you know.”

“Oh,” says Skye, a little overwhelmed and unsure of what to say. “I really like your parents.”

“They really like you.”

“Oh.”

Skye’s eyes feel a bit prickly so she blinks in the darkness and clears her throat. Simmons’ hand wanders over the sheets between them until she finds Skye’s fingers. She gives them a gentle squeeze.

“Well,” says Skye a little more collected. “I am pretty awesome.”

Simmons chuckles and scoots closer to Skye, her thumb making circles on Skye’s palm.

“Yes Skye, you are awe inspiring.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” says Skye and then, because she doesn’t have the words, she presses a kiss to Simmons’ knuckles.

Hearing Simmons’ breath hitch wasn’t quite the reaction Skye had anticipated, nor was the whispered request that followed.

“Skye, may I kiss you?”

In response, Skye trails a hand up Simmons’ arm, brushing along her shoulder until she finds her face in the darkness. She leans in close, feeling Simmons grab the front of her pyjamas and briefly wonders whether her heart is about to beat out of her chest.

When Simmons finally kisses her, Skye feels certain that her heart has exploded. She can’t breathe, she can’t get close enough and she can’t stop.


End file.
